First Flight
by Kyrandis
Summary: The moment of heart-stopping terror that he felt as he hung in the air with nothing to hold him lasted less than a second, but it was there nonetheless, and Damian's breath caught in his throat as a strong pair of hands grabbed his wrists.


**A/N: Uh. Based on this tumblr post here: kyrandis(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/4912643131/r-o-b-i-n-in-which-hana-and-i-weep-all-over-each **

**I had to. ;A; First time writing Damian and Batman/not-YJ!Dick, so I hope they're not _too _ooc.**

**I hope it's not too bad... ;~; Enjoy?****  
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><p><em><strong>First Flight<strong>_

"I fail to see the purpose of this, Grayson."

"It'll be _fun, _and that's reason enough."

"Tch!"

Damian was not pleased. Grayson obviously couldn't care less, because he ignored the noise of disapproval and climbed the tall ladder leading up to the board, calling over his shoulder for Damian to come up with him.

"No," he said petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "This is stupid."

Grayson reached the top and peered back down at him. "Suit yourself!" he said, and his voice was light, singsong and almost _teasing. _And that annoyed Damian, who told himself that there was absolutely _no reason_ to feel mocked, because _he_ wasn't the circus freak here.

With a giggle (a _giggle_), Grayson launched himself from the board, swinging on the trapeze. But he didn't do anything besides swing back and forth, occasionally letting go midair and spinning around so that he faced the other way, and Damian raised a scornful eyebrow at him (ignoring the fact that the first time Grayson let go of the bar, Damian's heart leaped).

"Is that the best you can do?" he sneered.

Grayson did a sort of flip over the bar so that he was hanging by his knees and looking down at Damian. "Well, it's a lot more fun with a partner."

Damian looked pointedly away and didn't respond, watching from the corner of his eye as Grayson shrugged and moved from the flying trapeze bar to the static one, where he began doing all sorts of tricks and positions. Damian was forced to admit (to himself—he would never say it out loud) that the moves were at least mildly impressive, and he wondered how long it had taken his mentor to perfect his repertoire.

He paused at another upside-down position. His back was arched, feet hooked on the thick rope of the trapeze and arms twisted behind him to clutch the bar itself. "This position is called Bird's Nest," Grayson informed him, flashing him a lopsided grin.

"Fascinating," Damian deadpanned.

"There are actually a lot of cool tricks you can do on the fixed trapeze if you have a partner," Grayson continued as he shifted into another position.

"Really." He would not give Grayson the satisfaction of sounding interested, because even if it _was_ sort of cool (emphasis on "sort of"), there was no way in _hell_ Damian was getting up there himself.

The corners of Grayson's mouth tugged into a small frown. Then a smile slowly spread across his face again. Damian knew that smile, and as his mentor dropped down from the bar, he took a wary step back.

"Grayson, whatever you're thinki—"

Grayson grabbed him around the waist and begin climbing the ladder to the flying trapeze again.

"Tt! Grayson, put me down!"

"Nope."

He reached the top of the ladder amazingly fast for having one of his hands occupied, and he deposited Damian on the board before swiftly descending that ladder and shimmying up the one to a second board across they way.

"Idiot," muttered Damian, and he made to climb down the ladder, but Grayson called to him from the opposite board.

"Typically, the flyer goes forward and back once, to gain momentum, then releases when he goes forward the second time. The catcher, swinging from the other bar on his knees, catches him, and they swing back and forth. Swinging forward, the flyer can reach his bar again." As soon as he said it, he jumped from the board, not giving Damian opportunity to respond.

Damian stared. He wouldn't _really_ let go, would he? Of course he wouldn't. He couldn't just expect Damian to actually _catch _him. There was no way. But...this was _Grayson_ he was talking about, and the man had already swung back once.

There was no more time to think. Cursing, Damian swung out on his own bar, stretching out his arms as he flew towards Grayson, wrapping his hands tight around his wrists and letting out another slew of profanity as the sudden weight pulled him down. He clenched his leg muscles tighter, conscious of how _easy _it would be to slip and fall and plummet down to the far-off ground. Never mind the fact there was a safety net; Damian didn't trust that thing.

They swung backwards, forwards, then Grayson twisted himself out of Damian's grip—Damian letting out a startled gasp—and caught himself on his own bar.

"Don't do that again!" snapped Damian. He hoisted himself up to sit on his bar as it rocked back and forth, clinging onto the rope as if it was his lifeline.

Grayson laughed. "Why not? Wasn't that fun?"

"It certainly was _not _fun!" Damian shot back, seething. "And you're heavy, dammit." Glancing at the ledge on his side, he wondered how, exactly, he was supposed to get back to it. He looked back to Grayson. "Now get me down from here."

"Actually, I think I'll just let you hang there for a while."

"_Grayson!_"

"Kidding." Grayson took his time strolling across the floor and climbed the ladder with deliberate slowness. Damian was just about ready to kill someone by the time the stupid bat finally leaned over and lifted him from the trapeze.

"Okay, let's do it again. This time, I'll catch you!" Grayson said enthusiastically, pushing the bar into Damian's hands.

Damian glared down at the bar. "No."

"Why not?"

"No."

"That was not a yes or no question."

No comment.

"Are you scared?"

The scowl that had been mostly present on Damian's face all day deepened. "_No. _Why would I be scared of something silly like this?" But his hands had clenched tighter around the bar as he said it, and Grayson noticed.

"It'll be _fine. _It'll be more than fine—it'll be _fun. _Just give it a try." Without waiting for a response, he ran and scurried back up to his board. Damian couldn't help but wonder if he ever got tired of running back and forth, climbing up and down the ladders.

"It's okay," Grayson reassured him as he reached out for his trapeze bar. "I'll catch you."

"What if you don't?" Damian challenged.

Grayson met his gaze calmly. "I will."

_...Just once_, Damian told himself. _If only to get him to stop bothering me about it. And to prove that I'm not scared, because I'm _not. _This is just a waste of time._

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath before opening them again. From his board, Grayson nodded encouragingly. Damian ran his tongue over his dry lips. Then, without giving himself a chance for any more second thoughts, he leaped.

It shouldn't have been scary. And, really, swinging by himself on the bar wasn't all that bad. But it was the apprehension, knowing that Grayson expected him to let go, expected him to _trust _him not to let him fall, that made him feel scared.

But if he chickened out, it would only prove Grayson right. And Damian would hate that—because he _wasn't _a coward. So as he and Grayson swung towards each other, Damian forced himself to let go.

The moment of heart-stopping terror that he felt as he hung in the air with nothing to hold him lasted less than a second, but it was there nonetheless, and Damian's breath caught in his throat as a strong pair of hands grabbed his wrists.

He wouldn't deny that he let out a sigh of relief as Grayson set him carefully on the board before dropping down beside him; he didn't think he'd have been able to make it back to the other bar again.

"Wanna go ag—"

"No." Damian cut him off before he could finish the thought. "That was dumb." He caught the trapeze, which was moving gently back and forth, and ran his hand idly across the bar.

Grayson was silent for a moment. Then he moved Damian's hands to the center of the bar and placed his own on either end of it.

"Wait, Grayson, _don't_—!" He bit back a yelp as Grayson, chest pressed against Damian's back, threw them both off the ledge. Tilting his head back, Damian saw Grayson grinning blithely down at him, impervious to his sidekick's vehement shouts of protest.

"Grayson, you idiot!" he yelled. "Stop it! Now!"

"But isn't this great?" Grayson cried gleefully. "The rush of air? The way the world blurs around you? The _exhilaration?_"

"No!"

"Is 'no' the word of the day for you or something? Lighten up. Haha, _lighten up. _Get it? 'Cause we're—"

Damian concluded that Grayson must be high (_no _pun intended) on flying trapeze-ing. "Not funny." He wasn't even sure if whatever joke Grayson was trying to make made sense.

After what seemed like an eon, Grayson finally stopped swinging them back and forth and brought them back to the ledge. Damian let out a shaky breath as his feet touched the solid board. His legs were shaking, but he hid it as he carefully sat down, dangling his legs over the edge.

Grayson settled down beside him. "It wasn't really that bad, was it?" he asked. "I mean, it's not like you haven't been high up before."

"I wasn't scared," Damian muttered, but he knew that by now it'd be senseless to try and argue his point.

Grayson glanced at him, then back at the trapeze. "I was scared, too, my first time." He chuckled a little, seeming embarrassed. "I was born on the first day of spring, so my mom called me 'little Robin.' She said...she said one day I would fly."

Damian tried not to look too interested—Grayson didn't talk about his parents too often—as he waited for him to continue. When he didn't speak again for a few minutes, however, he grew impatient and prompted, "And?"

Grayson blinked. "And what?"

"What was it like," Damian asked again, "your first time on the trapeze?"

"I was young," Grayson said slowly, brows furrowing slightly as he tried to conjure up the memories. "I was really young. I started learning acrobatics as soon as I could walk. But my first time on the flying trapeze... I was excited at first. But then when I was standing up there on the board, I felt scared. The ground was so far away. I started thinking that maybe I wasn't ready to fly yet. My parents just laughed—not in a mocking way, but a...a pleasant laugh. They said I was a Grayson—I was _born _ready. Then my mom told me, 'Don't worry. I'll catch you.' So I stopped worrying and jumped."

"That's it? Weren't you afraid she might miss?" Damian asked.

Grayson shook his head. "No. I knew she wouldn't."

"How would you know?"

"Because she loved me. She wouldn't let me get hurt. I know it." He smiled wistfully. "The same went for my whole family. We could always trust each other to catch us."

He started talking about his family. Not just of his mother and father, but his siblings, too, the rest of the 'Flying Graysons.' Damian gave up on trying to appear indifferent and listened attentively as the stories flowed, slow and hesitant at first, then less forced and with more emotion as the details started coming back and Grayson described his life in the traveling circus and all their different performances.

"And then, when I was twelve, we were in Gotham, and..." He trailed off, but Damian knew full well what had happened when Grayson was twelve.

Damian stared silently at the trapeze bar hanging in front of them. Finally, he said, "...Hey."

"Hm?"

"Do you think...you could show me some of those tricks you were talking about earlier?"

And Grayson smiled at him. "Of course."


End file.
